


Hopeless Wanderer

by Luthorchickv2



Series: Turning Left [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: (Gwaine works guarding a brothel for a while), F/M, Gwaine's Past, M/M, mention of icky sexual relationship, mention of prostitution, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 18:11:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14857703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthorchickv2/pseuds/Luthorchickv2
Summary: Gwaine is ten when he realizes why his family doesn’t attend King Caerleon’s court.Gwaine grows up, loses his parents and slowly makes his way to Merlin. This is a prelude of sorts to my stories, Discovery and Turning Left.





	Hopeless Wanderer

**Author's Note:**

> There is a brief mention that Gwaine's mother is pressured into bedding Caerleon.  
> I failed utterly in figuring out how to embed my cover for this fic but it can be found at http://luthorchickv2.tumblr.com/post/174612662968/this-is-a-cover-for-my-fic-hopeless-wanderer
> 
> Also I am stupid proud of this and any comments and kudos are treasured.

                                                                  

Gwaine is ten when he realizes why his family doesn’t attend King Caerleon’s court.

He grows up running wild in fields of Carnwyllion in the Kingdom of Caerleon. His father, Lord Rhys, is a powerful Baron who oversees a broad swath of land that stretches from the sea in the south to four days ride north to the mountains. It lies on the on the western edge of Caerleon. Rhys is also the best warrior King Caerleon has. Gwaine’s mother, Lady Matilda is generous and kind and practices the old religion openly. She teaches her son but Gwaine would rather be training or riding. He does pick enough to know to honor the land and defend balance.

He’s never really questioned why he is dark haired and his parents both fair haired. His parents love him and he’s never doubted it.

Gwaine loves his mother who is gentle and kind but Gwaine idolizes his father who is fair and compassionate in his judgments and lethal with a sword.

He remembers watching a man brought before his father for theft. Instead of ordering the man’s hand cut off, Gwaine’s father talks to him. The man had resorted to thievery to support in family after his crops failed.  Lord Rhys sentences the man to serve in Caerleon’s army but will ensure that his family is cared for, and that when the man completes his sentence he can return to his homestead. The man had fallen to his knees in gratitude.

“Remember, Gwaine. There usually is a reason for actions. Most people can only do the best they can in that moment and to mutilate a man for trying to care for his family is inhumane.”  
He had said when Gwaine had asked. From his father not only does Gwaine learn about honor and compassion but also to question, to look deeper.

His father puts a sword in Gwaine’s hand at age 7 and nothing else feels so right. It is an extension of him. He spends every moment he can training. If he is not in the baily practicing, he is running around the ramparts to increase stamina or riding bareback to increase his balance and strength. He wants nothing more then to be a knight like his father and dreams of leading men into battle under Caerleon’s banner.

The summer Gwaine is ten they travel to the city for the 15th anniversary of the King’s rule and the pages tests. Gwaine is excited not just to see the city and the King but because it is almost time for him to take his first steps to becoming a knight. He is of the age to become a page in another lord’s holding.

He is standing in line with his parents, waiting to be announced, when he notices the nobles on the sides of the room whispering and pointing at him. At first he thinks that they are being friendly and he waves at them. He’s confused when they laugh at him.

He turns to face the throne where he can just see the King and Queen. They are seated at the end of the hall. Each family steps forward when announced and bows to the the couple. King Caerleon is stern and proud and is regal in every way. He is the very image of what Gwaine imagines a King to be.  Gwaine can’t wait to serve this man as a knight, for surely there is no better King in all of Albion.

Queen Annis is beautiful with long hair, the color of sun ripened wheat, elaborately braided. Her bright green eyes are warm and kind. She smiles at the children who bow to her and each child gets a pouch of sweets. Gwaine wants to protect her will all the fervor of a child.

Finally, they are next. Gwaine smoothes down his tunic and his glad his mother forced him into it.

“Lord Rhys and Lady Matilda of Carnwyllion and their son, Gwaine of Carnwyllion.”

Gwaine doesn’t hear the pause between his name and his parents. He’s too busy carefully bowing. He wants to be just right for their Majesties.

He looks up at the King and Queen and is startled when they are not smiling the way they had to the other families.

The King is gruff. “Welcome to court. We hope you will be comfortable during your brief stay.” He says, looking over Gwaine’s shoulder. The Queen says nothing just drops a pouch at Gwaine’s feet.

Gwaine is hurt and can’t figure out what he’s done. Was his bow wrong? His mother scoops up the pouch of sweets as they move to the side. From the corner of his eye Gwaine can see the Queen frowning after him.

The rest of the day is just as confusing. The other children exclude Gwaine from their games and conversation, and Gwaine can’t figure out what he’s done. The feast is awkward and Gwaine wishes to be anywhere else.

“What’s wrong with me?” He asks his parents when they put him to bed that night.  
    
Rhys and Matilda look at each other and sit on the side of his bed.

What follows is an uncomfortable conversation about the truth of Gwaine’s parentage.

King Caerleon had taken a liking to the young unmarried Matilda for a few months while the Queen had been unwell. Her parents, dreaming of influence, had sent Matilda to his bed.   Matilda had become with child and the King had banished her. Rhys, who had loved Matilda from afar, stepped into the marry her. They escaped the gossip of the court by staying in Carnwyllion and raising Gwaine there.  

“I could not love you more if you were my son by blood. You are mine in every way that matters and I am so proud of you. This changes absolutely nothing.” Lord Rhys strokes a hand over Gwaine’s dark curls.

Gwaine doesn’t know what to think of any of this and resolves to ignore it for the most part. The King didn’t want him? Well, Gwaine would be the best knight to have ever lived and would show him. He would force the King to acknowledge him.

The next day Gwaine joins other boys his age for the page’s demonstrations of their training. They would be tested on their horsemanship, weapon handling and general physical ability. The Knights would watch and choose their pages from the victors.

Gwaine, who had never really tested himself against boys his own age is better than everyone else by leagues. He comes in first in every test set to him except for archery where he places third. He can feel the hostile gazes of the other boys and that only pushes him harder.  

He stands in the lists after the last test waiting for a Knight to approach. The other boys all had Knights approach them and ask questions but no one approaches Gwaine. He can overhear two talking about how it shouldn’t be allowed. Gwaine just looks forward, ignoring the hurt. The other boys leave with Knights, and Gwaine is alone on the field until Lord Rhys comes for him. It isn’t common for a Knight to have his own son as page and Gwaine is furious. He’s earned being a page.

That night his father comes for him. He is told to dress with care and together they walk through the castle to a small room where King Caerleon sits behind a large desk.

Gwaine bows and stands in silence as Caerleon questions Rhys about Gwaine’s training and education. He studies this man who shares his blood and feels nothing.

Finally, the King turns his attention to Gwaine. He is stern and fierce and Gwaine tries to find anything familiar in his face.

“I will never acknowledge you. You were a mistake that never should have happened. My Queen was gracious enough to forgive me but I find I can’t forgive myself when faced with you. I can not and will not show you favor but” He pauses looking down at Gwaine. “Should you prove yourself as a page and then as a squire, I will see you knighted.”

Gwaine bites his lip and responds only when Rhys nudges his back. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I will do my best.”  

The King dismisses them with a wave and the next day Gwaine leaves the capital with his parents, jaded and angry.

Because of his birth and who his father by blood is, he will never get a fair chance. Still he throws himself into his training. He will be the best no matter what.  

He is 16, in his second year as his father’s squire when war breaks out. Gwaine has broken his leg in a nasty fall from his horse and is not allowed to accompany his father to the front no matter how hard he begs.

His last memory of his father is Rhys, astride his charger, waving back as he rides through the portcullis.

Half a season later a messenger arrives from the King. Lord Rhys has been killed in battle. Because Gwaine is illegitimate, the King has decided that he is not to inherit his father’s lands, even if that’s what Rhys’s will states, and that Carnwyllion will be given to one of the King’s nephews, Prys. Gwaine and his mother must leave.  

Gwaine is in shock, numb. How could Caerleon do this? He is halfway to saddling his horse to go rage at Caerleon when his mother grabs him and her cooler head prevails. She reminds Gwaine that he is an unmatched squire and that maybe Prys will take him on and allow her to stay.

So they wait. Gwaine, who now has no trust in anyone, secretly smuggles supplies and goods out of the castle. His friends among the farmers are happy to help. He sneaks pieces of jewelry out of his mother’s box and smaller pieces of silver from the silver closet. Grain and salted fish and jugs of mead join the pile. The last things he manages to get out are the war horse his father had given him for his 16th birthday, his mother’s palfrey and a mule for supplies. He is ready.

Lord Prys arrives soon after and he makes it very clear that the only way Gwaine and his mother can stay if if Matilda warms his bed.

Gwaine refuses to allow her to sacrifice like that and they leave the next day. They are allowed to take almost nothing, only some clothes, Gwaine’s sword and a pittance of money the King has sent as a pension. Gwaine holds his high as they walk through the courtyard on foot as the Prys refuses to ‘waste good horse flesh’. Gwaine escorts his mother out of the only home he has ever known and burns with hate.

Once they get the horses and supplies Gwaine has set aside they ride through the night, putting as much distance as they can between them and the castle. He wonders if Prys had given them such limited supplies because he wants them to come begging back and resolves to never beg.

They decide to ask for sanctuary in Ewyas, Matilda’s family lands, now controlled by her brother, Lord Ewan. His lands are far to the other side of Caerleon by the Camelot border but they realize they will get no help from the nobles in the lands surrounding Carnwyllion. The trip is long and hard, the road weaving through the mountains and they travel off road most of the time to avoid undue attention. Partway through Brecon, they happen upon a merchant’s convoy being assaulted by bandits and Gwaine acts without thinking. He jumps in and is able to help fight them off. The head merchant is so impressed with Gwaine that he hires him to help out and offers Matilda shelter. The convoy is headed to Camelot and while it will be slower then if Gwaine and Matilda traveled alone, it at least offers safety and companionship.

Gwaine and his mother join the convoy and sleep well for the first time in days. The convoy winds its way east and Gwaine, eager to learn, picks up hand to hand fighting tricks from the mercenaries guarding the convoy. They laugh at him when he falls for tricks, call him little lord, but soon grow to respect his ability to pick himself up and keep going. He turns 17 on the road and the convoy celebrates by getting him so drunk his stomach aches for days.

They gather around the fire at night and Gwaine hears horrible stories of the Caerleon nobles betraying the merchants and soon figures out that his father, noble and compassionate, was not a normal noble, that most nobles are cruel and greedy and think only of themselves. He sees it first hand in the next town the merchants visit where the noble, Lord Trevor cheats the merchant out of half his profit. Gwaine’s got his hand on his sword without realizing it but the merchant shakes his head. It isn’t worth the fight. The people of the town are gaunt and hungry looking and Gwaine thinks of the noble in his luxurious hall clothed in ermine and velvet, table full of rich plentiful food, and burns with the injustice of it. His father had always cared for his people, teaching Gwaine that without the people the land would fail and that everyone had a responsibility to keep the castle and land going.

Gwaine gives up his rations for a couple of days to a young mother holding two children, on the way out of the town. He can go hungry and they can use all the food they can get. His mother stays behind for a moment talking to the woman and when she returns Gwaine notices that a silver ring she has worn on her pinky was gone.

“I couldn’t give more because people might wonder where she got it but I had to do something.” Matilda says when she notices him staring. He leans over and hugs her. Homeless and widowed, she still manages to be kind.

Not long after it rains nonstop for days and Matilda catches a chill. Gwaine, who had been to content to stay with the convoy, even if it took longer to get to Lord Ewan, now makes right for Ewyas. He sells the donkey and silver to the merchant, refusing to take supplies for free and they set out.

He can’t push too hard as his mother grows weaker every day. Every night he prays that she will wake in the morning.

Gwaine is at his last limit when they finally arrive at the castle. His mother is barely conscious and is tied to her horse and Gwaine knows she will never recover.  His uncle, Lord Ewan makes a huge show of welcoming them and Gwaine is relieved to let someone else be in charge. Ewan calls for a doctor who confirms what Gwaine has feared. Matilda will not recover.

Gwaine spends the next days tending to her and making her comfortable. He is given everything he asks for and is grateful that his uncle is more like his father as a noble.

One day his mother asks to be taken outside. There is a tree she used to play in and read under as a girl and she wants to see it.

Gwaine carries her down and knows she won’t see another day.

She lies under the tree and weakly pulls Gwaine down onto her lap like he is a child again.

“I am so proud of you, my son.” She whispers, barely audible, and rests a hand on his head.  
Gwaine tries to keep it together but he can’t. Tears leak from his eyes and stain her dress.

“Shhh, my darling. I have no regrets. I would have gone to Caerleon’s bed a thousand times over if it gave me you. It has been a good life.  I will soon see your father again and all will be well.” Her hand disappears from Gwaine’s head and he turns to look at her.

“Remember what we have taught you, Gwaine. Always be a good man. Honor and compassion are not weaknesses. Though I know you will be sad, don’t turn to bitterness. Help others when you can.” She pauses and looks down at him.

“Don’t be afraid to love, Gwaine. It will find you when you least expect it. Don’t turn it away.” She slowly lifts her hand to the pendant she has worn for as long as Gwaine has been alive and unhooks it. Gwaine leans up and lets her place it around his neck.

“Remember, be good Gwaine, act with honor even when others around you don’t.” He nods.

“I promise, Mama.” He calls her a name he hasn’t in years.

She smiles sadly and hums a lullaby. They stay under the tree the rest of the day and when the sun sets Gwaine carries her back to her room.

He tucks her in tenderly and sits at her side holding her hand. He refuses to cry again even as her breaths become shallow and soon cease all together.

He is 17 and alone. He takes her wedding ring from her finger and adds it to her pendant. He will carry it with him always. He leans down and kisses her forehead, whispering “I’ll remember, I promise.”

They bury her under the tree and Gwaine has barely changed out of his mourning clothes when his uncle calls him to his study.

Gwaine hates that he is surprised when Ewan tells him that Matilda had been allowed to stay out of respect but that Gwaine can not stay. Ewan doesn’t want trouble with the King.

Gwaine swallows his rage and asks for a few days to prepare. His uncle gives him a week.

Gwaine is able to sell his mother’s horse to his uncle though not even for half of what she was worth. He has no use for two horses on the road and she would only be more trouble then was manageable.

He travels out one night, deep into the forest and finds a clearing. The clearing is home to ring of stones that Gwaine stays out of. He can feel power in the clearing and knows he is in the right spot. He places a loaf of bread by one of the stones and kneels.

His mother hadn’t really instructed him on the old religion and when she had he had been so focused training that he hadn’t really listened. Still, he hopes sincerity counts for something.

“Please, care for my parents.” He whispers to the gods of the old religion, head bowed. “Grant them peace.”

He lets himself mourn, just for a moment before standing and looking around.  He sees a grand old oak tree that suits his purpose. At the base he digs a deep hole in which he places all his mother’s jewelry wrapped in a waxed bag. He can’t risk carrying them with him and he would rather cut off his arm then let his uncle and aunt have them.

He gently covers it with dirt and buries it. He will try to return when he can. But he’d rather they stay buried then fall into the wrong hands. His hands have small scratches on them from using his bare hands to dig and his blood mixes in with the dirt and the tears he refuses to admit he is shedding. He has unknowingly attracted the attention of the tree spirit who is moved by Gwaine’s pain and love. No one else will ever find the bag, not while the tree lives.

(A couple days after Gwaine leaves Ewan stumbles upon the clearing looking for Gwaine’s stash and sees no evidence of disturbed earth. He also is attacked by a flock of crows who chase him from the forest. His harvest is not good that year or the next. It takes an offering from the local druids and a reminder to the forest spirits that bad harvests affect not just the lord but his people as well before the grain yield goes up. But every time Lord Ewan tries to ride in the forest, he is attacked, or his horse spooks or a tree branch blocks his way, and finally he gives up.)

Gwaine leaves his uncle’s lands and heads west again looking for the merchant convoy.  He figures he can hire on with them. He no longer trusts the nobles and has given up becoming a knight. He couldn’t serve Caerleon after all this anyway. The King has killed both his parents indirectly and has acted with dishonor. Gwaine will never trust a noble again.

He catches up with the merchant convoy just west of the border with Camelot, and the head merchant looks at him sadly and welcomes him. That night they toast the Lady Matilda and Gwaine shares stories of her. She will be remembered.

He stays with the convoy as they travel east into Camelot and further on into Mercia. He learns everything he can, including how to hold his liquor, how to cheat a dice and how to charm all sorts of people. Times passes and his grief dulls. He slowly learns how to laugh again.

He sleeps with a woman for the first time after he turns 19 and then sleeps with a man the week after. He likes both well enough but can’t bring himself to form attachments. He develops a reputation as a lovable rogue who takes nothing seriously, except fighting. He tries to honor his parents by living with compassion and courage but is sure he is disappointing his mother by not allowing himself to love.

He leaves the convoy when he is 21 when they turn back to Caerleon. He refuses to go back tot the country of his birth and instead travels further east to Escetir.

He travels from place to place and takes work where he can get it. He signs on with a mercenary crew for while but leaves when they are contracted to clear a village of druids. He will not harm those who have not harmed others.

He spends a summer helping to harvest wheat for a family whose two daughters adore him. The eldest stares at him with hearts in her eyes and he tries to let her down kindly. The youngest daughter takes to copying him as he practices his sword patterns in the morning. When he leaves he leaves a child size sword behind and a girl determined to be the best fighter and first lady knight. He doesn’t disillusion her. She will find out soon enough.

He spends a year helping to protect a monastery where the monks practice peace but behind their walls are the most masterful quarterstaff wielders Gwaine has ever seen and that isn’t a euphemism. He spends many sessions getting his ass handed to him before he learns to defend it. He leaves when he starts yearning for the road. He spends a couple seasons watching over an expensive brothel and learns all sorts of tricks and talents from the men and women who work there. He ensures, quietly that all who work there are doing so of their own volition and relaxes when they are all willing.  He is sad to leave but he feels himself growing attached and he isn’t ready to settle. Something keeps pushing him and for now Gwaine is happy to roam.

He never has much money but always manages well enough. He leaves bread every so often at shrines and stone rings and only takes work with honorable people.

He is between jobs in his mid 20’s and is having a drink in a small tavern in Camelot. He’s never spent a lot of time in Camelot, not comfortable with the persecution of magic users and is pondering heading to Mercia when out of the corner of his eye he sees two men enter.

The tall blond couldn’t be more obviously noble if he were wearing silk or velvet and is obviously slumming it. The other, the dark haired man with large ears, is interesting. There is something about him, something that makes Gwaine want to know more and it’s not just the rush of attraction he feels.  But he ignores both impulses. He has a feeling that the dark haired man is trouble. The blond certainly is.

He is proven right moments later when the blond picks a fight with a large man shaking down the barkeep. Gwaine approves of the dark haired man’s sass and sense when the room floods with men armed to the teeth.

It takes him two seconds to decide to help. He’s never liked a bully and he hasn’t been in a proper brawl in ages.

He swaggers up to where the blond is standing.

“You two have got yourselves in a bit of a pickle, haven’t you?” he drawls, positioning himself.

“You should get out of here while you have the chance.” The blond says and he really can’t hide the nobility, can he?

Gwaine eyes him and turns to the big guy. “You’re probably right.” And ain’t that the truth.  

He takes a swig from his mug and throws his first punch.


End file.
